


original sin

by cosmya



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Garden of Eden, M/M, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Sexual Education, Temptation, this is the beginning of a beautiful horny friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 12:28:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21338245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmya/pseuds/cosmya
Summary: The apple hasn't yet been eaten; all is innocent in the Garden of Eden. Except Crowley. And he needs to practice his temptation skills before The Big One.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 78





	original sin

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” says Crowley.

“Well,” replies Aziraphale academically. “They  _ were _ created in God’s image.”

The fallen angel and his counterpart stand atop the wall of the Garden of Eden. It is very hot out today. The sun still burns happy and fresh in the sky, as if it’s not aware that it has several thousand years more to burn, and doesn’t need to try so hard so quickly. The air has a weird smell, too, like the elements that make it up are still getting used to one another. The apple has not yet been offered. All is innocent, well, all except for Crowley himself. 

This has been his sentry point for the past several days. He knows what the mission is, he is capable of carrying it out, he is...  _ almost _ ready, can’t rush him, not with a matter of such importance. This is the first time the angel has joined him, however. Which means he really should be getting on with it, lest the entire plan be ruined. It  _ is _ Crowley’s first real objective, and he can’t have Hell on his back from the get-go. 

But he just enjoys  _ watching  _ the humans so much. The angel is right about the whole ‘in God’s image’ thing, though, so it is probably Bad that he has been showing any interest in the strange creatures at all. He simply wants to remember what they were like before he tempts them. It’s good for a demon to know what purity looks like so that he can thwart it at every turn.

He turns to face the angel. “I’m Crowley, by the way. We might’ve met.”

“I don't think so. I'm Aziraphale. Pleased to meet you.” He sticks out his hand, but quickly draws it back. Probably better that way. They remember that they are supposed to be mortal enemies, and forcibly look away from each other. 

It’s clear now that Crowley wouldn’t need to study the humans at all if he had met Aziraphale before. Because Aziraphale radiates purity out of every orifice. Despite his best efforts, it draws Crowley’s eye. He peers back over to his side carefully, willing for Aziraphale not to notice. The angel is gazing beatifically down into the garden. He has fluffy white hair, the kind that makes for a convenient grabbing-spot, and a cherubic face  _ (really, Heaven, really?)  _ and his white robe is so loosely draped that it was clear he had never had a thought in his life that somebody might find him desirable. Or that  _ anyone _ might desire  _ anything _ . 

Perhaps it would be best if Crowley practices his temptation skills before it is time for The Big One.

“In God’s image, eh?” says Crowley. “She must be something to see.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t know,” Aziraphale replies. “I’m not important enough to meet personally with Her. Nor should I be. She has  _ far _ more important things to be carrying on with.” He says this as if he is talking about a celebrity he is a huge fan of, but can never muster up the courage to ask for an autograph.

“More important things? Than the Garden of Eden?”

“Oh, yes.”

Crowley raises an eyebrow and stops pretending to be ogling the verdant plants a hundred feet below. Azirphale’s expression hasn’t changed; Crowley is starting to hate it. “Than the entirety of the human race. She put you on it, and She doesn’t care?”

“Oh, She cares very much, demon.” The last word comes out funny, like a curse that he isn’t quite comfortable saying yet. “She  _ trusts _ me.”

Crowley laughs. “I think I know what it is. It took Her, what… a few days to make all of this? Must not mean that much to Her. She can just make a new one if you fuck it all up.”

Aziraphale gasps. “There is no need for that sort of language,” he mutters.

“What? Afraid it might infect you, or something?” Crowley wiggles his fingers at the angel teasingly. “Might make you fall, too? It’s not that hard, you know. Only takes a couple steps…”

“That’s not funny.” Aziraphale backs a  _ single _ step away. “Begone, demon. These humans are under my protection.”

“Oh, don’t be daft. You know my part in this is just as important as yours.”

Aziraphale feigns ignorance, pressing his pink lips together, but Crowley sees a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. That’s always where it starts. It wasn’t so long ago that he saw it in his own eyes - Heaven is full of mirrors, to trick the vain and humiliate the doubtful. He had been all of the above. Perhaps this Aziraphale is stronger than him, but they are made of the same stuff; the chance of falling lives in all of them. It so happened that Crowley has recent experience in doing such.

“So,” Crowley goes on. He has an idea, one totally  _ not _ tied to how Aziraphale looks or how hungry he feels. “The humans. Why do you think She’s left them naked? Isn’t that a little obscene?”

“Why wouldn’t they be?” says Aziraphale suspiciously. “It’s hot outside.”

Crowley points down to where Adam is washing himself in the spring, cock hanging about like he hardly knows it’s there. Eve is sunning herself on a rock, legs spread, not a care in the newborn world about who or what sees her. “They have those for a  _ reason _ , you know.”

Aziraphale nods. “Of course. If they can’t reproduce, how will we fill a whole planet with them?”

“They’re not  _ just  _ for reproduction, angel. You should know that, you’ve got one. What do  _ you _ use it for, considering you don’t do any of that normal  _ body _ stuff?”

“Why, nothing, of course. I use it the same way I use my pinky toe.” He flexes his toes demonstrably in his sandy tie-up sandals. They look like he’d just been to a pedicurist.

“You never tried it out?”

“Of course not.”

“Oh, angel,” Crowley sighs. “What am I to do with you?” The words come out more lovesick that he’d imagined. 

Aziraphale gives him a worried look. Is he still afraid of demons? “Please don’t do anything with me.”

“But you have so much to learn.”

His expression shifts to chastising. “I know what you’re doing.”

“No, you don’t.”

“You’re tempting me. Just like you’re going to do to them. Well, I won’t fall for it.”

“I’m not doing anything. Certainly not with an angel.” With an angel sounds very  _ nice _ , actually, especially this particular one, but Crowley won’t get anywhere telling Aziraphale that.

They stand in silence as the sun gets used to its new path overhead. Crowley had given up on watching Adam and Eve, preferring to ponder the way Aziraphale’s mouth twitches and eyes widen when the humans brush up upon one another. This angel is weak.

The night aids with this smallest of falls. As the sun goes down, and the shadows come out, and Adam and Eve lay themselves down to rest, bodies pressed together for warmth, Aziraphale finally speaks. It’s adorable, really. He waited until the humans were asleep to ask, as if they could hear them from up here. “Fine,” he whispers. “What are they for?”

Crowley grins. “It’s not so bad. It’s God’s fault, in any case. We surely didn’t corrupt them, though I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

“What?” asks Aziraphale, growing more anxious. “What did She do?”

“You see, angel, the humans can do this wonderful thing. They’ll figure it out soon. They have the power within themselves, needing  _ nothing _ else, to generate the most powerful joy. In a purely physiological sense. No self-delusion needed.”

“How?”

“With those reproductive organs you’re so apparently not fond of. They have a secondary purpose, you know.  _ Primary  _ purpose, I would say, but who’s asking me?” Crowley hopes that Aziraphale will, in fact, ask him.

Aziraphale looks positively dumbfounded. This was not covered in Intro to Humans 101. He sits down on the wall and puts his head in his hands, which would have been funny if it wasn’t so cute. He takes a moment, then looks up at Crowley, looking betrayed. “And ours do the same?”

“I don’t know,” Crowley says innocently. “I’ve never tried.” He smooths the front of his own black robe, hoping that the way the fabric drapes over his hips draws Aziraphale’s eye.

“But we can’t reproduce. Can your kind?”

“‘Course not. We’re not so different, as you very well know.”

“Then why do we even  _ have _ them?”

Crowley laughs, but he realizes that it’s less of a laugh of derision and more a giggle of excitement. “Use your mind, angel. There’s only one thing we could be using them for.”

Luckily, it’s very clear that Aziraphale does not yet have a concept of chastity. Chastity can’t exist in a perfectly innocent world, can it? None of this willpower, resistance to temptation, ‘I’m stronger for not using it’ bullshit. Is this even a temptation, Crowley thinks? No, it’s more of a teaching moment. Academics. Advanced Human and Ethereal/Occult Physiology 201. He’s doing Aziraphale a kindness.

“Come on,” Crowley says, smiling internally because he knows Aziraphale won’t recognize the pun. (He has a feeling that Aziraphale loves puns, so he makes a point to tell him later.) “If God created it, how could it possibly be bad?”

Aziraphale looks simultaneously devastated and thrilled, covered in a thick icing of confused. “Well… I suppose… you do have a point.”

“Do you believe me?”

The angel smirks up at him. Crowley decides this is the time to sit down as gracefully and as close to Aziraphale as he can. He knows his eyes are beautiful at this distance. He knows his hair is as bright as the sunrise. He knows he could tempt anybody with his face. (Not that he has tried it on anyone.) He places his hand on Aziraphale’s thigh, right where the white fabric has started to slip away. A finger slides up inside it. Accidentally.

Aziraphale has stopped breathing, not that he needs to. He watches Crowley’s hand slide further and further up his leg, ever so slowly. For all his purity, it has apparently taken but a single touch from a demon to set alight a part of him he thought was as useful as his pinky toe. His eyes flick up and he looks practically  _ devious _ . “No, demon. I don’t think I believe you one bit.”

“Would you like me to prove it?” Crowley purrs.

He waits for the answer. He waits ten long seconds, while the sun finally plunges from the horizon and basks them in starlit darkness. And then Aziraphale nods once.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @ cosmya


End file.
